Two Princes
by underscore
Summary: You're my once upon a time. But he's my fairytale ending. It's hard to choose between someone perfect for you, and someone right. LilyJames, LilyRemus.
1. James

_You're my once upon a time. But he's my fairytale ending. _

It's an old story. A tale as old as time. Maybe older. A boy and a girl.

Love at first sight. Maybe.

Scribbles on parchment, and spells are like fairy dust in the air. You could always smell magic, a tingle in your nose, the shiver under your skin.

Oh, you got older, you got used to it. But when it was still new, still fresh, it was perfect.

"Doing something, Evans?"

"Sod off, Potter."

Love at first sight. Maybe... Maybe not.

"I think I won't. Not this time," wand twirling in his fingers, "Evans."

He was too sure, too confident. He knew everything about magic that she didn't. It was wrong.

"I don't want to hex you, Potter," she says, but she does. Trying to look calm, she folds her secret parchment with her secret spells, and stows it away in her bag. Inside, she's furious. Angry.

"Aww, c'mon, I like to think we've outgrown that." Grin.

It's that smile he's probably practiced in front of a mirror just to get girls to swoon over him. He was like that.

"You haven't outgrown anything since you were five, Potter." And when he laughs, she just wants to hit him.

There wasn't anything particularly annoying about him. He was just too annoying to be particular about.

"Oh, I've outgrown a lot of things, Evans," a sparkle in his eye, and he stands up to his full height, at least a head taller than her, "you want to see how much I've grown? I could. . . show you."

He always means more than what he says. Her ears are turning red, red as her hair, she can feel them, and prays to God that he doesn't see them over the sunset. He would never let her live it down.

"I'm going now. Prefect business," she says at last, embarrassed to be backing away like she was afraid of him. Because she isn't.

At least, that's what she thinks.

"Ah, the prefect excuse." He pretends to mull it over, and an almost thoughtful looks glazes over his eyes. "Say, if _I_ were a prefect, Evans, think you'd give me the time of day?"

She looks at him, all of a sudden very tired and drained. It's an old game, and it's getting boring.

"Potter, worse things have happened."

And then she's walking away into the dusk, trying to ignore the burn of his eyes on her back. After all these years, she thinks she should be over it, but then again, _it's hard to get over things_.

"Lily!" she hears, before she hits someone tall and thin in faded robes.

It's Remus.

_I don't want to wait for a prince that's never going to come._

"Sorry," she says, and means it. His brown eyes are sad, but then again, they always are. They look away and focus on a point above her shoulder. He looks relieved. She finds out why.

"James," he says, moving past her like it hurt to see her, and he smells like spilled ink and books. Like Remus.

Clutching her bag tighter to her, she takes a deep breath and walks through the halls. The sunlight is filtering through, and Peeves is being as annoying as ever, but nothing is registering in her head.

_Remus J., Remus John, Remus Lupin. Remus. Remus. _

_ I'm sorry.  
_


	2. Sirius

_Describe me, Remus, please? Don't be boring—_

_Is that another one of those yearbook things? You're wasting your time, Lily—_

_Go on, describe me, am I weird? Funny? Pretty? _

_Lily Evans is the epiphany of an era, how about that. _

_Wow, Remus, _she saysand she's immortalizing it in her loopy handwriting, _I didn't know you were a poet. _

_I'm not. For you, maybe. _

"Hey Evans," she hears, and she feels Black even before he sits down beside her on the heavy oak bench in the Great Hall.

"Black, if this is another one of your--" He holds up a finger to quiet her, and she stops without knowing why. Maybe it's the centuries of pure blood running through his veins, or the aristocratic arch of his eyes, but he holds an air of command, something she's noticed about him and Potter. Not Remus though.

"You're half right, Evans, _yes_, James still wants to ask you out, but _no_, that's not the reason I'm sitting here." He pauses for dramatic effects. Lily thinks he should have joined the theatre club. He certainly has the looks, skilled actor or not.

"Then, what are you talking about?" She crosses her arms, hoping to look forbidding.

"Well, the quidditch game is coming up," he begins, "and, since we all know James is going to beat the bugger out of those Slytherins, then, well, I plan to hold a party in advance."

"I _still_ don't see what this has to do with me, Black." Her porridge is getting cold, and she remembers reading somewhere that brains have the consistency of cold oatmeal. Not a very appetizing thought.

"Well, what's a party without a little butterbeer, right?" Pause. "And firewhisky?" Pause. "Albekirky's Absinthe--"

Even Black knows when he's pushing it too far, because he stops. He even shifts a little further away from her, discreetly.

"Black, alcohol isn't allowed to be brought inside the school grounds." She's explained this once, a hundred, a thousand times.

"Ah, that is the _nut_, my little flower." Another dramatic pause. "We found a stash."

"A stash."

"Inside the school."

"A stash of alcoholic beverages inside the school. I hope you aren't talking about Slughorn's personal--"

"No, no, not Professor Slughorn's. We found it in the Room of Requirement. You have no idea how much alcohol people have stashed there over the years, Lily my love. Aged. And ripe for the picking."

"Black, if it hasn't crossed your ever thickening skull yet, I am a _Prefect_, I do not condone these kinds of activities.Prefects in _general_, do not condone these types of activities."

"Remus is a prefect," Black says.

"Prefects in _general,_" she stresses.

"So, no alcohol."

"Are you going to listen to me _anyway_?" Being a Prefect, Lily decides, is not as fun as you thought it was when you first received your shiny little badge. Then again, being a teenager is not as fun as you thought it would be when you were ten, and watching your thirteen year old sister put on lip gloss and high heels.

Prefect means being the one to call off the fun.

Prefect means being the one everyone else is afraid of.

Prefect means—

"Remus is going to help us, you know."

Black.

She wants to fling her brainy oatmeal all over his floppy hair do. She really does.

"Remus can do as he likes." Nonchalant is the key, she tells herself. Shrug it off.

"Gents," Black says loudly, standing up on the bench with arms wide open in a gesture of surrender to an audience of about twenty Gryffindor boys, "I tried." He bends down and kisses her hand, the picture of innocence. "Thank you for your time, my little wallflower."

Laughter.

"I'm going to kill you, Black," she mutters.

He smiles.

_If I kill _you his eyes say, _you would enjoy every bit of dying_.  
**_

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_**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR. All of its characters belong to JKR. The plot is mine though :p _

_Author's Note: Thank you to _Melissa _for reviewing, I love reviews, and if you do read, do review :) _


	3. Remus

The Walloping Warlock's music thuds so loudly she can see her lampshade rattle to every warbling note he makes.

Black had been right, of course, Gryffindor had beat Slytherin, and so, to show off their amazing talent, the entire house had decided to get hopelessly, ridiculously, _drunk_.

Except Lily.

She doesn't mind in the least—being young isn't about getting drunk and snogging the first person you come into contact with. It was… it was… about… revelations, she decides. Finding yourself. Afterwards came the drinking and snogging.

The clock ticks, and it's about 11 o'clock pm. Time to perform her prefect duties, she thinks reluctantly, even if nobody is listening anyway. She opens the door and finds it miraculous the room is still intact.

As suspected, there is Black, standing at the center of the common room, swigging a bottle of Ogden's. Remus is nursing a cupful of punch, which has, no doubt, quite a bit of Black's generous, alcoholic contributions. Peter is nowhere to be found.

A bevy of Gryffindors are jumping and gyrating on the couches, the portraits are looking scandalized, and Lily…Lily is taking a deep breath.

"Excuse me?" She can't even hear herself over the music. She tries louder this time. "Excuse me!" And she _still_ can't—

"OI! EVERYBODY QUIET DOWN, LILY'S MAKING AN ANNOUNCEMENT!" A voice hollers loudly at the far corner of the room, and—is it?—It _is_-- James Potter. Quidditch hero, quaffle chaser extraordinaire, and, three hours into the party, miraculously _sober_.

Lily feels thirty pairs of eyes swivel in her direction. She wishes she'd changed out of her polar bear pajamas.

"Er, just a friendly reminder that no alcohol is to be imbibed--" Apparently she isn't as charismatic as the great James Potter, because the music starts up again, as loud as ever.

"LISTEN!"

And the music stops.

"Yes, well," continues Lily, unused to so much attention, "no alcohol allowed inside the school grounds. Any found will be confiscated, and the holder will be answerable to Professor McGonagall." She pauses. Everyone knows that the aforementioned Professor is in Northumbria attending a magical seminar on Tranfiguration. "Mr Black, I will have to confiscate that bottle."

"Lily-Flower," he drawls, cheeks unusually flushed, "come have some fun with us." He waggles his dark eyebrows enticingly, and waves the bottle.

"Black--" She really _could _find someone else to tell off (and make her life easier in the process), but it was rule number one in the basic handbook for prefects: _Get the leader, the rest will follow_. But unfortunately, she doesn't finish her convincing statement. Someone else finishes it for her. A certain bespectacled, messy haired, Gryffindor chaser.

"Sirius, just let go of the bottle." James, _James-_Beer-before-Liquor-_Potter_ is telling his _best_ friend to listen to _her._ Lily.

If things go any stranger, Lily decides, she will just have to give up her Prefectship on grounds of insanity. Dumbledore will understand. Probably.

"Fine, mate." As is usual in a Black situation, drama comes into the scene when Black drops the bottle of Firewhisky. It makes a dull thud on the floor, and proceeds to spread its contents into ever fiber of the Gryffindor rug. Within seconds, the smell of alcohol is in the air. Even though his beverage is finished, Black, however, is not. "You can go and listen to the _girl_, for all _I_ care, you bloody bastard. Forget your best friend. Lily this, Lily that, I don't _give _a damn, you hear, Prongs? I didn't know you were so--"

"Curfew," Lily says loudly and, surprisingly, people _hear_ her, and the crowd dissipates. Black hears her too, and, shaking his head disgustedly, heads to the boys dormitories more sober than he seemed five minutes ago.

James Potter, however, remains. He is standing in the middle of a pool of Firewhisky, and staring at her.

She doesn't know what to say.

Apparently, he does.

"Evans, don't worry about Sirius, he's just…" He searches for the right word.

"Imbalanced?"

"Drunk." He gives her a look, which is more than a look really, when eyes like those are focused on her, "But he'll be fine tomorrow."

"Good." She nods.

"Good." He nods. "I'll be… going up now."

"Er… you do that. G'night."

And he's up and away faster than a frightened rabbit. Not a usual Potter move. Maybe he _has_ been drinking.

She hears the door close, and begins to pick up a few stray remnants of the victory party. A piece of confetti here and there—thank goodness nobody had been drunk enough to let loose a dungbomb. Then she _really_ would have had to call the elves in.

Lily isn't the type to mind cleaning up though. She finds it comforting, and hopes she'll be tired enough to fall asleep afterwards.

She starts to hum her favorite song, and stops when she hears footsteps.

"Lily? Thought you'd need some help. You did, last time."

Brown eyes. Brown hair.

And he's just standing there.

"Remus."

Bittersweet memories, frozen hearts, kisses that were never meant to be.

_Lily, I'm not for you. You'll see._

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**Thanks for the reviews, they kept me writing :) Chapter 4 is going to be a conversation between Lily and Remus...It'll be up soon (I hope)**

**p.s. what are 'hits'? they're right beside 'reviews' in stats...**


	4. Lily

_Lily, I'm not for you. You'll see._

"Lily--"

"I think we need more garbage bags, don't you? It's a miracle how much trash these parties make. Honestly." She's babbling, and she knows it. It's strange; she's always thought _he_ was the one avoiding _her_, but, that is obviously not the case. She wants to be somewhere memories disappear and stop haunting her. She wants to be somewhere Remus and his beautiful, sad face mean nothing.

"Lily," he says again, and she thinks he says her name just to see how much she cringes, "we don't need more bags. They're bottomless. Remember?" He sounds tired. She wonders if he's been getting much sleep, and then remembers a full moon is coming up.

_Remus, _she hesitates, _what's it feel like? _

_Oh, _he understands, _like I'm dying._

"I remember. Remus…maybe you should go get some rest. I'll clean up."

"Lily, I'm _fine_, I was at the party too. I made this mess," and she almost laughs because he's the neatest person in the world, "and I'm going to clean it up."

And then she realizes that maybe the mess he's talking about isn't the party, it's _them._

"Remus." She used to call him Remus J. for fun, and he used to laugh. They used to be a lot of things, together.

"Lily," he says. _Remus J., you are the most boring person on the planet, call me something else. _"I want you to know—I understand. Why you—we—ended."

The silence could cut a thousand knives.

"You understand."

"Yes."

"Then why don't you explain it to me, Remus." She crosses her arms over her chest defensively.

He can read her body language like a book—he can read her mind like its chapters—he can read her eyes like its words.

She turns to look at the walls, and fixes her gaze a little above his head. She doesn't want to be read.

"Well," he begins, "I don't deserve you. You're Lily Evans. You're beautiful, you're smart, and you're going to be…great, one day. James has everything going for him--"

It's almost too frustrating to bear because he doesn't understand at _all_.

"No, no, no, _Remus_, it's not that. It has _nothing_ to do with James. I don't—I mean, I can't see myself _with_ him, or liking him, or anything. The thing is, Remus, when I ended it… you didn't even try. _Now_, even. You… you take the worst of a situation like you _deserve_ it, and that's not true Remus, it's not. You are the nicest, most perfect person I know…but you can't see what you are, you can't see beyond the werewolf thing," he stiffens when she says the word, but she goes on anyway, "You _think_, just because of what happened, that everyone is automatically better than you. They aren't. You can't stop telling me, every single day we're together, that I am better off with someone else, even though I was best off with you, and, oh Remus," she hates having people see her cry, "I knew when it started how it was going to end, it's better to end it now, and I don't want to hurt you, I don't but if that's how… that's how you see things…" She trails off.

"Then it has to end."

"Yes."

He is silent, the bag dangling from his hand, his eyes a picture of sadness.

"I understand."

Now he does, but she wishes he didn't.

In fact, she wishes she'd never said anything in the first place. The truth is the worst thing anyone can get, because there's no way around it.

"Remus I--"

"It's okay." A weak smile. He looks so tired, and it hurts her to see him like this—"I'll clean up. Good night, Lily."

She wants to stay. She wants to help.

But she leaves him.

_You're coming? The hospital wing smells like something died in there. _

_Remus, I wouldn't miss you for the world._

_

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**Author's Note: **_

**_I hope you guys caught all the double meanings. Thanks to all of you guys who reviewed! _**


	5. Severus

_I'm the only thing in your life that's average. _

_You're the only thing in my life that's real. _

Its morning already, a bright, glaring day that's too happy for autumn. Lily Evans tries to ignore the sound of the other girls—her roommates—getting ready for a Hogsmeade trip. She's not in the mood.

They try to convince her of course, but she has all the answers.

Yes, Christmas is only a few months away, but no, she doesn't want to buy presents.

Yes, she knows this is one of two—_two!_—Hogsmeade trips in the entire year, but no, she doesn't want to go.

Yes, she wants to spend the day in her bed, and _no_, it has absolutely nothing to do with James Potter.

Finally, Kathryn, Gwen, and Claire leave her in quiet, quiet peace.

Yes, she echoes to the door her friends have just left through, it has nothing to do with James Potter. And everything to do with Remus.

The door stares at her blankly.

The room is empty.

She is empty.

Suddenly, the bed she's lying in feels too warm, and, Lily gets up reluctantly.

At least she won't see Remus today, she tells herself; a small comfort. His furry situation guarantees that Madame Pomfrey's already secured him in that house in Hogsmeade. But she doesn't want to think about him. Foolishly, she looks around the room, trying to find something, _anything_, that will take her mind off him.

Her charms textbook, for the first time ever, grants her no sense of peace.

She almost wishes she had half of Potter's talent when it came to flying—breathing in good, fresh air, fifty feet above the ground sounds like a tantalizing idea.

Then again, so does swimming in the lake with the giant Squid. Anything to distract her from her morose thoughts.

It comes at last, the Big Idea. A bath. She wants a bath. And not just a quick, I'll-be-out-in-a-jiffy shower like she's used to most weekdays. A real, bath with bubbles and soaking long enough to wrinkle your fingertips.

Yes, _that_ kind of bath.

The only perk of being a prefect.

Within minutes, she is in the hallway, trudging resolutely towards the Prefect's Bathroom, drowned, again, in thoughts.

Even as she tells her mind to stop dwelling on him—to stop—_stop_ it—she can't. She sees his face, as she saw it yesterday—and then, in a surprising turn down her memory: as she saw it the first time.

_Why are you sitting here?_

_I'm sorry are these cabins reserved?—getting up to leave—_

_No, no—she's blushing, that wasn't what she'd meant at all—I'm just wondering why you're sitting alone. _

_Oh,--dignified and embarrassed—well, you're alone too, aren't you?_

_Laughter. I suppose I am. _

_Sit down then, he says after a while, Let's be 'alone' together._

But, as it happened, they weren't alone together for long. James Potter came in with Sirius Black and—

_James Potter_.

"Potter."

"Evans—I—what are you doing here?"

She wonders if he wants her to state the obvious—she is, after all, walking in the general direction of the bathroom, her bathrobe and bag in tow.

And then she realizes he's wondering why she's _here_, in Hogwarts, when everyone who's anyone is in Hogsmeade. Being the only prefect around in a Hogwarts that is populated by nervous first years and over-confident second years is a death wish, and everyone knows it.

Lily, of course, had been so, _so _busy being mind-numblingly stupid about Remus that she'd forgotten. And of all people James had had to be the one to remind her.

Since when, she realizes almost all of a sudden in alarm, has she called him _James_?

The more important realization arrives seconds later, when she realizes that she's left his question unanswered too long, mouth slightly agape in thought.

And so, she answers the only answer she can give without seeming mental.

"Prefect business, Potter." The sentence would have swallowed itself, had it been any more sour.

He laughs. To her annoyance. All the nice, _friendly_ thoughts she'd felt toward him, as a result of last night, dissipate in a puff of bubble gum scented smoke. Bubble gum?

"That's what you always say. Besides, what sort of prefect business could you be up to in your pajamas?"

Her brain is working too slowly this morning because it takes her a few seconds to remember she's still wearing her incriminatingly fuzzy polar bear nightclothes.

"If you must know then," she says with as much dignity as she can muster, "I'm off to take a bath. And no," she adds when his mouth opens to say something, "you can't join me."

He laughs out loud, looking shocked and delighted, and embarrassed, she laughs with him. And stops.

James Potter is The Enemy, she says as a mantra over and over in her head. Exactly why she sees him as that, she doesn't know.

"Er… I take it you and Black are friends again?"

He's blocking the way and he seems to have no intention of moving.

"Sirius? Yeah, he was just drunk last night. I told you."

"Is he around?"

"In Hogsmeade no doubt, with Martha Trenton from Hufflepuff." He's giving her a strange look. To his credit, he's much more difficult to read than Remus.

"Oh."

"Yes. Well. He's dating her, you know."

"Um, that's… nice."

She has absolutely no idea why James—_Potter, _POTTER—is being so awkward, and why she is as well.

"I, uh, I have to take a bath. Could you--?"

"Oh, of course, sorry--" he moves away—

"MISS EVANS?" A second year, stumbling around a corner, stops just short of her and James.

"Yes?" She recognizes the boy by face—a Ravenclaw.

"Theslytherinsarehavingaduel--"

At the mention of Slytherins and duel in the same sentence, both of them are instantly on alert.

"Where?" They ask at the same time, and Lily finds herself shocked at seeing James appear so… commanding. Responsible, almost.

"The dungeons."

She tenses, ready to run off—but James grabs her arm. His hand, she notices, is warm, and his grip, vise-like.

"I know another way."

He pulls her and she resists for half a second before realizing that _this _is James Potter, and of course he'd know the school inside out. When she relents, she barely has time to notice that he's leading her in an entirely opposite direction, whispering words to statues that nod and allow him entrance into dark tunnels, where it seems the light from their wands is the only thing to have disturbed the darkness in centuries. The tunnels are so heavy and dank with the smell of mildew that, when they reach their destination, the cooler air from the dungeons seems fresh in comparison.

A few moments is all it takes to adjust to the light of the torches. The scene before her is menacing, and she understands why the Ravenclaw called for help. Lily had expected two little second years, tossing _Expelliarmus_ at each other, with the random Bat Bogey hex.

She had not expected _this_.

On one hand stood Severus Snape, dark robes slashed to tatters, eyes like empty tunnels. A pack of Slytherins stood behind him, ominous.

Black, on the other hand, stood alone, blood dripping from a gash down the front of his shirt. He turned around.

"Prongs. Lily-flower. How nice of you to come."

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A/N: Is it just me, or did Lily call James by his first name in her head twice without even noticing? Methinks there's something going on... :p Please review :)  



	6. Padfoot

Chapter 6

"I—what are you—STOP THIS AT _ONCE_!" Lily is fumbling around her brain for words.

A full-scale duel. _Today_, of all days.

"Sorry. Can't," Black—the elder, of course—apparently his brother is one among the Slytherin pack—wipes a trail of blood from his lip. His usually charming grin is overshadowed by the fact that his teeth have taken on a reddish cast. His demeanor tells her he will not be convinced.

She turns to her other option.

"Severus. Put your wand down." Lily tries to sound authoritative, really, she does. It's hard to sound like the voice of authority, however, when there's nobody to back you up. James has already moved into position behind Black. Then again, what had she expected from him? More help?

Natural Potter behavior.

"Lily, _leave_." Snape's voice could have come straight from the grave, cold and lifeless. She's never heard him like this. "You saw nothing. You won't be held liable."

_Liable for_ _what_? She wonders.

"I'm not leaving, until both of you give me your wands. _Now_." Her hand trembles when she stretches it out. She stills it.

"You don't understand what you're getting between, Prefect, get out of the way." A Slytherin she doesn't recognize is hissing at her. Only then does she realize, with a chill down her spine, that no less than three wands are aimed at her.

So much for _Expelliarmus_.

"Lily?" It's Potter.

"What?"

"Leave."

And oh, does she want to.

"I'm not leaving." Another thing she hates about Prefecthood: Responsibility. She can't. She won't.

"Don't try to be brave. This is dangerous," he says, under his breath.

"What," her voice reverberates loudly, "is going on?"

"It's been building for some time now, mudblood. Do what Potter says and get out of it." She's only heard that word spoken three times in her lifetime, and each time she hears it, her heart stops. It echoes centuries of hatred and prejudice, passed down to her from the moment of birth for no reason other than her ancestry.

"And if I don't leave?" Her voice trembles. Potter is giving her a look, like he wants her to know something, and she thinks it means something, she _hopes_ it means something. She raises her voice. "What will you do, murder another student in cold blood? Oh, I forgot, _mudblood_ is the term," it leaves her mouth bitter but she repeats it, "_Mudblood_. Murder a mudblood in cold blood. Now _what_ a rhyme." The other Slytherins are looking at her like she's lost her mind. She can't blame them."Well, I think it's typical _pureblood_ prudence to take advantage of Dumbledore's absence, I mean, wouldn't want to get into trouble for--"

A large BANG! A cloud of smoke, and a hand is grabbing her. Two hands, really, one warm, and the other, cold. She hopes it's Potter and Black, because she doesn't think it would be smart to enter a tunnel with two angry Slytherins.

The back of her mind tells her, sarcastically, that she's _never_ hoped for anything to do with either of the two boys.

They're still in the tunnel when all of them seem to stop moving in tandem. Potter stops first, and then Black. She is the last.

"What was going on in there, Prongs? I could've handled--"

"No, you couldn't have. Both of us couldn't. There were too many of them."

"You don't understand. They--" Black casts a sidelong glance at her, as if he's just remembered her, and he stops. His expression changes. "Amazing show of bravery there, my little prefect." Back to normal. Almost. His eyes still hold a sort of glint in them.

Her ability to catch a lie from ten paces is probably why they chose her as a prefect.

"Out with it, Black." She crosses her arms over her chest, in what she hopes is an authoritative position.

"What?" he shrugs, as if to shake the issue off his aristocratic shoulder. "It was a duel. You had to stop it, even though James and I could've held them off. Nothing at all. Saturday morning fun." Pause. "What would be _really_ fun, though, is, hey, how about _we_ three go over to the three broomsticks and--"

She raises a hand to stop them, and turns to Potter.

"James—Potter—what the hell was going on back there? And don't try to tell me it was just a random duel. It wasn't. I'm not stupid." She feels the faintest tinge of red in her ears, at saying his name. She doesn't know why, of course.

"No, you aren't. And I'm not stupid enough to tell you either. It's dangerous stuff, Lily—I don't want to involve you in any of this."

"Stop trying to protect me, Potter." She'd almost had to remind herself to stop using his first name.

"She's right, Prongs," Black says, with such a surprising shift of allegiance, even James looks dumbfounded. "She deserves to know. She could have gotten hurt back there."

Lily feels suspicion settle in, from her spine to her limbs. Black wasn't someone to trust.

"Lily-flower," she flinches at his version of her name, hating the floral association, "I'm a Black. Being in Gryffindor was the worst possible thing that I could have done to dishonor my family. My little _brother_, of course… he made them proud. Like the rest of them, he hates me. And what you saw back there was a minor altercation… merely a brotherly fight of sorts. You understand, don't you?"

Lily, whose sister Petunia hasn't talked to her since she's gone to Hogwarts, understands more than she should. But she knows Black is hiding something, underneath all his charm.

"A brotherly fight, Black? Seven Slytherins to one? You're _bleeding_, and you call that a brotherly fight?" She gestures at his blood-stained, torn-into-tatters shirt.

Black looks down, and, as if just noticing it, dabs gingerly at the horrific gash down his chest. "They were mostly first-years," he mumbles uncharacteristically.

"Severus _Snape_ isn't a first year, and you know it. He--" Lily's train of thought is interrupted. Black has paled, all of a sudden, either by the sight of his own blood, or by the significant loss thereof. "Black, we're going to Madame Pomfrey." She hopes nobody hears the worry in her voice.

"Nothing to be worried about, Lily-Flower--" but before he can finish, his knees buckle, and yet it appears as if he's just chosen to sit in the middle of the hallway. He was that graceful. Lily almost understands why Gwen keeps a picture of Sirius under her pillow at night. Almost.

"Lily's right Padfoot, you'd better go." Lily turns around to look at James, surprised. What was it that made the two most disagreeable boys in the school decided to agree with her today? A stroke of luck, maybe?

"Mm," Sirius-slash-Padfoot slurs, "I suppose I should. Could you help me up Prongs, the floor's a bit slippery."

Slippery? Lily looks at the floor, aghast. A perfectly circular pool of blood surrounds Sirius, slowly growing larger. She wonders how he could possibly have been able to fend of lightheadedness long enough to make up a story.

But then again he was good at lying, wasn't he? And the story, it didn't seem _completely _made up… there was always a grain of truth in there, perhaps later she could--

"LILY!" She realizes she's been staring at the floor for quite some time now. "Are you coming?" James has managed to levitate Sirius, and is looking at her almost urgently.

She nods.

Then on the way to the Hospital Wing, she beings to wonder. Sirius? James? They were on a first name basis now?

* * *

Author's Note: Wow, it's nice to be back writing fanfiction :p Thanks to all of those who reviewed, and I'm sorry it's taken so long to update! The next two chapters are pretty much ready, just need to work out a few things since I want to keep the story as close to cannon as possible (which means a certain Slytherin is going to be involved--he won't be at the center of things, it's still a Lily/James, post-Lily/Remus romance). Please send me your reviews, of course, I'd love them :) 


	7. Seven

Chapter 7

"Lily--" she looks up, from her Charms textbook. James is sitting on the couch. She is sitting on the couch.

In fact, both of them are sitting on the same couch, alone, in the common room. Granted, she is as far from him as is physically possible, but they're still together. It's a miracle she hasn't gotten annoyed, or angry yet. But then again, this is the first time since that morning that he's opened his mouth to talk.

"What is it?" Her voice is sharper than she'd meant it to be. Years of snapping at him had made it a habit.

"About this morning—with Sirius, in the dungeons—I'm sorry you got involved."

He was apologizing? She raises an eyebrow.

"And—I think—you deserve to know what happened."

Both her eyebrows are raised now. "James, I thought Sirius," (there it was, using their first names again!) "already told me. Although I have a few qualms about believing his version."

"Oh, Sirius is normally a pretty good liar, but given the circumstances earlier…you probably understand why his story-telling wasn't in top form." He pauses, and takes a deep breath. "Whatever I tell you stays between us." It wasn't even a question, but she nods, reluctantly, and he continues. "Sirius was being honest about the first part, his brother hates him, and he returns the favor most of the time. And they do have occasional brotherly… fights. But this wasn't even about them." He seems to pause and steel himself before his next revelation, "It was about Remus."

At the sound of _his_ name, Lily's voice catches in her throat.

"Lily, how well do you know Remus?"

There was only one answer to that question.

"Well enough to know that he's—he's…" she can't bring herself to say it.

There's a long pause between them.

"He's a werewolf. You know then." A weight seemed to have disappeared from James' shoulders, and he seems more willing to continue with his explanation. "Sirius and Snape get into fights. Me and _Snape_ get into fights. _Peter_ and Snape get into fights. But Moony—Moony's too nice. He doesn't do that sort of thing. But _Snape_," and James said that name like it was trash, "hates us collectively. And he noticed, about how Remus disappeared once a month, and came back sick and drained. He had a theory as to why that was. He wanted to prove his theory. And we found out. Sirius was all for it. Let Snape try to prove his theory. Let him go to the Shrieking Shack and see what's in there." He pauses, and looks at her, straight in the eye. His eyes are brown, she notices, the nicest shade she's seen of the color. "Sirius is a great guy, but sometimes… he doesn't think. I told him not to provoke Snape. I thought he wasn't around today, he said he was going to Hogsmeade with a Hufflepuff. When I found out he was down there, in the dungeons, I knew what he was doing. It was stupid, really. He was being stupid. But he's my best mate, you know? I would've backed him up either way."

This, Lily concludes, is the longest conversation she's ever had with James. Potter. James Potter. It isn't so bad.

"Well." She still isn't used to saying anything _normal_ to him, she feels awkward and wonders if he does too. "What's going to happen now?"

" Nothing. Unless Snape decides to be stupid. But there's no way he can get past--" he hesitates again, not sure how much to tell her. He doesn't know that she _already_ knows everything Remus related. _Everything_.

"No way he can get past the Whomping Willow, you mean?"

James gives her an assessing look, and Lily almost bites her tongue. Now, he would be wondering how she knew what she knew.

She decides to change the topic.

"I'll keep a closer eye on Severus, and you make sure to keep a close eye on Sirius. How about that?"

"Right." He pauses, and his eyes narrow at the unfamiliar name. "Did you just say _Severus_?"

"If you'd bothered to call him names other than Snivellus, or whatever it is you call him, you would know he had a first name, Potter." She crosses her arms over her chest defensively. It irks her, that they can be so mean to him. No matter how heroic they played out to the school, the Marauders really _were_ first class bullies when they wanted to be. Except maybe Remus.

"And you know him pretty well then, do you?" There's a note of contempt in James' voice. The tips of his ears had gone pink.

"Better than I know you," she throws at him. And she'd thought they were being civil. The redness had now spread to the tip of his nose.

"Stay away from him, Lily. He's not a good person."

Oh, _Severus _wasn't a good person? She shakes her head. He can be so dense.

"And you think you are? Bullying him? Ganging up on him any chance you can get?"

"It's just a few jinxes, nothing dangerous." He brushes it off. "Have you seen the spells he uses, Lily? Look what happened to Sirius, for Merlin's sake!"

He has a good point in that argument, somewhere, but now she's just too angry to care.

"At least he isn't an arrogant, self-obsessed toerag, Potter." She gives him a glare for good measure, slams her Charms textbook, stands up and leaves.

______________________________

A/N:

Wow, I've been on hiatus for quite some time! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, the reviews really do keep me going :) Chapter 8's pretty much done, and Chapter 9's in the works! Rest assured this story is not dead!

It takes her a while to realize she's gone back to calling him Potter.

At least things were back to normal.


	8. Sixth Year

Chapter 8

_Fourth year._

"_Do you like me Remus? At all?"_

_It's one of her silly questions again, one she doesn't expect an actual answer from. _

_But…_

_Head down, and quiet in the dark, was Remus J. Lupin. It takes him a while to say softly, "I do. Very much."_

_There is something in the tone of his voice, something she has never heard. She knows instinctively what to say. And without hesitation:_

"_I like you very much too, Remus." She says this just as softly, just as tenderly. No questions need to be asked, they both mean it the same way. _

_Fourth year._

"I thought your choice of sleep wear was rather nice." She _feels_ his smirk in the dark. And his allusion to her polar bear pajamas? Not funny.

This is sixth year. In the Owlery.

She takes a deep breath, and turns to him.

"Do you know how scary it is, to see something like that? I was supposed to be going to the Prefect's bathroom for a bath, just to _relax_, take a break from this hectic week, and--"

"Lily, I said I was sorry, what else am I supposed to say?"

Severus Snape.

She sighs.

"Sev, it isn't necessary to pay back Sirius Black for every single thing he does to you. It's sinking to his level. Did you know I had three wands pointed at me? And I'm pretty sure they weren't just planning to _Alohamora_ the door behind me. I don't mean to overreact, but it was _scary_, alright? I barely recognized you. Sometimes…" she runs her hand through her hair, not noticing the longing in his eyes, not knowing how much _he_ wanted to be the one to do that, to run _his_ hands through her hair. "Sometimes I don't know who you are anymore." Their fight last year, the one where she decided _never_ to speak to him again—is still fresh in her mind. But how could she _not_ speak to Severus? He's her oldest friend. She opens up a topic which she hopes can redeem him, in her eyes at least. "What was going on back there anyway?"

"You know Black. Opening his big mouth as usual. Too brave for his own good, I think he really thought he could out curse us."

"It was a duel, then?"

"Yes." He turns away from her, for a moment, stroking her Owl, Ella. The one he'd given to her as a birthday present two years ago, the one he'd saved up knut-by-painstaking-knut for.

Severus Snape loves Lily Evans, he is _in love _with her, and Lily has no idea.

"A full scale duel just because Black was being Black? You…" she lowered her voice, "You used it again, didn't you? Sectumsempra? Black could have been seriously hurt_--_"

"He'll be fine," Snape says curtly. "Which is more than I can say for me, every time your precious Marauders decide they need entertainment. You should stop defending your Gryffindor friends, Lily, I show them more mercy than they do for me."

"They're _not_ my friends," she says, barely noticing how relieved he suddenly looks, "and you call Sectumsempra 'merciful'? Black's in the hospital wing right now, he was bleeding!"

"I said, he'll be fine. Don't worry, I didn't use the spell to mutilate." He looks at her, dark eyes fathomless. "He'll be alright."

She's shaking her head. And then she remembers what James said earlier—one of the main reasons she'd asked to see Severus.

"I have to ask you. Was this about Remus?" Her eyes are almost gray in the moonlight.

"Lupin." He sounds irritated. "What's all this about Lupin anyway? He's been giving you puppy-dog eyes for a week, every mealtime. It's pathetic. Another one of your adoring fans?" He says this scornfully, even though he happens to be one of them.

"Remus is a nice person," she says, unwilling to say more. It's a miracle she's been able to keep her relationship with Remus a secret from him for all these years. He has a penchant for knowing things he isn't supposed to.

"Stay away from him, Lily. I know you're _friends_ with him, but there's something wrong with him. I know it. Don't you ever wonder why he disappears each month? At the full moon?"

"Stop it, Severus. He's the nicest person I know." She pauses, afraid she's given too much away. She sighs. "Look, Sev, I don't like fighting with you. You're one of my best friends," she says and his heart skips a beat, "It's just sometimes it feels as if you're changing into someone else. Someone… dangerous. I mean, you talk about my friends but do you look at yours? Really…" She has a hard time saying what she wants to say.

"I would never hurt you, Lily. Never." His eyes are boring into hers and she looks away from the intensity of his gaze. Ella hoots softly. Lily gives Ella the letter she's been meaning to give to her parents, along with an owl treat. Ella gives her a gratified nip and is on her way, soaring into the night.

"I have to go. It's pretty late."

"I'll go with you to Gryffindor tower."

Lily nods absentmindedly and both of them make their way to the Gryffindor Common Room.

Lily Evans, and the boy who loved her.


End file.
